


cross-eyed for good luck

by evocates



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Orlando is a ditz and Sean is patient
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 08:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evocates/pseuds/evocates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orlando has a problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cross-eyed for good luck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afra_schatz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afra_schatz/gifts).



The phone rang. Sean nearly dropped the pan he was washing, scrambling slightly to dry his hands on the towel before he grabbed the phone and picked it up.

"Bean, I can't cross my eyes."

Sometimes Sean wondered why he needed caller-ID at all. It was really far too easy to figure out was calling him every time. But then again, both Viggo and Orlando seemed to like starting conversations in the middle without telling him the beginning, and sometimes he was far too drunk to figure out the differences in accents.

Not that he needed to. His reply was always the same.

"Wot?"

Orlando sighed. Melodramatically. "I can't cross my eyes."

"Alrigh'," Sean shoved the phone between his shoulder and jaw, holding it there while he continued washing the dishes. "Why are ya tryin'?"

"You told me to cross everything I've got for your MacBeth opening night."

"So I did."

"Well, I crossed all my fingers. Even my thumbs! But I had to stop that so I could call you. I crossed my toes too. But then when I'm waiting for you to pick up - and man, you took a hell of a long time to pick up, are you going slow in your old age? - I remembered that I can cross my eyes. So I tried. But I can't."

Sean dried the pan and placed it on the rack.

"What's the problem wi' it?"

"Apparently my eyes keep sliding away. I think. I can't tell."

"Ya can find a mirror?"

"I'm standing in front of one! Why, are you going to ask me to take off my clothes?"

Sean pretended he didn't hear that. He started to dry another dish. "Ya take one 'and off the phone. Uncross those fingers. Put yer index finger right in front o' ya. Straight in front."

"As straight as my nose and as straight as yours isn't?"

"Look, ya want me 'elp wi' this or not?"

"Shutting up now."

"Anyway," he continued. The phone was slipping off his shoulder. He shoved it back up. "Put yer finger there, and focus on it. Really concentrate."

"How hard do I have to concentrate?"

"Like ya are tryin' ta drink one of Dom's Blowjobs withou' touchin' the glass."

"Woah. That's a hell lot of effort. Okay, concentrating..."

"Feel yer eyes movin' yet?"

"Be quiet. I'm concentrating."

Sean finished with the dishes, dried his hands, and moved to the living room. He switched on the television.

"Ya can try liftin' yer 'ead up ta look inta the mirror."

"Shhhh, oh hey, I can! Hey, it worked!"

"There ya go," Sean said. He changed the channel to Sky and waited for the match to start. He concentrated very fiercely on the television.

"Wait." There was a scuffle. "Yeah, I'm literally crossing _everything_ I've got here. Even my thumbs! And eyes!"

"Good lad," Sean drawled.

"So kick their arses or else I'll kick yours for making me do so much stupid crap."

_End_


End file.
